The Ballerina's Stand. Angel Smits

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СКАЧАТЬ I’ll show you around.”

      “That’d be nice.” Emily’s voice came out of the darkness, as she stepped outside to lean against Wyatt. His arm went around her almost as a reflex. They were as comfortable as any long-married couple.

      And then it hit him. “Wait.” Jason stared at them. “Wyatt, you rat.” Jason punched his brother in the arm, just like when they were kids. “You two aren’t going through this insanity. It’s already a done deal.”

      Wyatt laughed and Emily blushed, her cheeks shadowed in the dim night light.

      Jason was surprised at the hitch of some unusual emotion ripping through him as the two shared a look. “When?”

      “A couple weeks ago,” Emily whispered, not taking her gaze from Wyatt’s. “My boss performed the ceremony one afternoon. Convenient working for a county judge.” She shrugged and smiled.

      Jason glanced over at his brother who looked totally smitten.

      “Congratulations. But, why?”

      Wyatt looked down at Emily. “It seemed like the right thing to do. We didn’t want to interfere with DJ and Tammie’s day. They needed the big to-do. We just needed—” Wyatt paused and his smile softened. Jason felt himself smile, too, pleased that this woman made his brother happy.

      “Each other,” Emily finished for him on a whisper, gazing up, just as besotted, at her new husband.

      “I—uh—think I’ll turn in.” Jason headed into the house, fairly certain neither of them heard him leave.

      Inside, Tara and Addie cleaned up the few dishes, their dresses rustling in tune as they moved, while Mandy fed the baby and Lane sat nearby. It was comfortable, safe. Home.

      The day was winding down. Jason wouldn’t tell anyone that Wyatt and Emily had eloped—that was their news. Though he was tempted to tell Tara she would need to buy one fewer bridesmaid’s dress. She’d be relieved.

      After saying his goodnights, he went upstairs to the guest room, his mind full of coffee and curiosity. What the hell was Pal Haymaker up to? And how would it affect the people downstairs? His family.

      Jason didn’t live here in Texas. He wasn’t a provider like Wyatt, nor a soldier like DJ had been, but he had his own way of protecting the people he cared about. He’d studied the law and every one of his siblings had benefited from his advice at some point—Wyatt with the business of the ranch, Tara with her restaurant idea and Mandy with her son’s future.

      Jason knew he’d do just about anything, even work for an asshole like Pal Haymaker, if it kept those people downstairs, nearly all the people he loved, happy and safe.

      * * *

      ACCORDING TO WYATT, Pal had been banned from the big house. Pal Jr. had paid the bail money and hired a high-profile attorney, but wasn’t speaking to his father after he’d nearly burned up the entire county. As for Trey Haymaker, Pal’s grandson and DJ’s friend, he had disappeared. If anyone knew where he was, they weren’t telling. Jason didn’t blame him.

      The old man had done a number on everyone.

      The original hundred-year-old ranch house was still impressive, though. It dwarfed even Wyatt’s place, and the trees had easily been around for an additional century. An older woman answered the door, nodding but not smiling as she let Jason in. He followed her as she slowly walked down the long hallway, her serviceable shoes squeaking against the polished wood floors.

      She stopped at the wide entry of a room, waving him in before turning back and returning the way she’d come. Squeak. Squeak.

      “Someone should buy that woman some decent shoes.” Pal’s voice came from the corner of the big room.

      The old man sat there in a leather recliner, his scrawny legs lifted up, a newspaper spread over his lap. Clear green tubing from an oxygen tank beside the recliner snaked around the chair, finally wrapping around Pal’s weathered face. He aimed a remote at the giant TV screen and turned it off.

      “You wanted to see me?” Jason didn’t hesitate.

      “Have a seat.” Pal leaned forward and lowered the footrest. “I ain’t gonna get a crick in my neck for this, and I sure as hell can’t get up.”

      Jason nodded and took the chair facing the man. He hadn’t brought his briefcase, or anything to write on. He didn’t intend to take this job. Curiosity had brought him here today—that, and the need to make sure this jerk was no longer a threat to his family.

      “What did you want to talk about?” Jason leaned back, forcing himself to look casual, uncaring.

      “I got business out in your neck of the woods.” Pal slowly folded the newspaper. “I’m heading out there on Monday.”

      “I thought you were under house arrest.”

      The old man laughed—laughter that dissolved into a fit of coughing. “My attorney’s taking care of that.” He looked Jason in the eye. “I’ll be dead long before they can lock me up. So, what’s the point?”

      He probably had a point, if the blue tinge to his skin was any indication. As a corporate attorney, Jason mainly worked on business deals, but oddly enough a lot of business deals resulted from deathbed promises.

      “What kind of business are we discussing?”

      “My demise. I’m adjusting parts of my will—”

      “I’m not helping you screw your family more than you already have.” Jason began to rise. He’d had enough of this man.

      “Now sit your ass down, young man.” Pal spat out. “I ain’t gonna take anything away from either of my boys.” Another coughing fit made Pal pause. “I’m talking about someone else.” Oddly, Pal’s eyes and voice grew faded and distant. “Somethin’ I gotta make right ’fore I go.”

      Pal Haymaker had a smidgen of conscience? Not possible. “What are you talking about?”

      The old man leaned back, spearing Jason with a glare. “I’ll let you know when I get to LA.”

      “That’s not much answer, old man.” Jason sat on the edge of the chair, preparing to leave. He had a plane to catch.

      “Not supposed to be.” Pal leaned closer. “There’s too many ears in this house.”

      Was Pal paranoid, or was there a grain of truth in what he was hinting at? He wouldn’t put it past Pal Jr. to place a spy in his father’s house.

      “Here’s the deal.” Jason stood. “You get to town, get in touch with my assistant.” He pulled a white utilitarian card out of his wallet, flicking it with a decisive snap onto the side table. “If you time it right, I’ll meet with you.” He headed to the door. “You’ve done enough damage to this world, so make this good.”

      He didn’t wait for Pal to dismiss him. Walking out into the hot Texas morning, Jason took a deep breath, the fresh country air clearing his head of the stink of rotten old man.

      “You learn anything?” Chet leaned against the truck’s СКАЧАТЬ